Were You Ever Going To Tell Me?
by TheConsultingSociopath
Summary: John's secret from Sherlock has the potential to separate them for an indefinite amount of time. (John is 19 while Sherlock is 18)
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock stared in disbelief at the envelope on the table. Though it was addressed to John, it had the country seal on the back, and it was already opened. As the curious man he was, he unfolded the letter inside and read through.

_ Dear Mr. John Watson, _  
_We thank you for the ensignment to the national army. Your support is greatly appreciated. Therefore, you application for army doctor has been accepted, and you will be deployed in 2 months. Only bring the clothes on your back; equipment will be provided when you arrive at the base. We await your presence, and once again thank you for the service you are providing._  
_ Sincerely, _  
_ Major Barrymore_  
_ Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers_

It was at that point that Sherlock had dropped the letter back onto the table, his hand covering his mouth. _No, no. You can't do this to me. You can't leave._ Sherlock breathed deeply, and ran his hands through his hair nervously. John was leaving him, for how long, he didn't know. Could be months, could be permanently. No, he couldn't think about that, not at all. Sherlock slumped down onto the couch, and tried to control himself. The letter had been addressed 3 weeks ago. John had known for _three weeks_. And had never once mentioned about enlisting, let alone being deployed. He was leaving in slightly less than a month and a half._ Why hadn't John told him? Why?_ His face was expressionless as he pulled out his phone, hitting the number that was used the most. He clicked "**New Message**", and began to type.

**Were you ever planning on telling me? -SH**


	2. Chapter 2

The bell dismissed John's class and he began to collect his things. As he was walking out the door, he felt his pocket vibrate, so he quickly deposited his items into his locker before taking his phone out of his pocket, and walking home.

**Were you ever going to tell me? -SH**

That was all the message said. John stared at his phone, confused as to what Sherlock was talking about. For the most part, John told him everything. He couldn't think of a single thing that he hadn't told Sherlock about. Then it hit him; the deployment letter. He remembered that he blatantly left it on the table, and knowing Sherlock, the git must have read it. However, he tried to think past what Sherlock would say if he knew John was hiding something, and decided to play dumb.

_You're going to have to be a bit more specific. What haven't I told you about what? JW_

Sherlock's response was almost immediate.

**You know exactly what I'm talking about, John Watson. -SH**

Even through text message, Sherlock could convey had infuriated he was.

_...The deployment letter? JW_

**The very same. Now, back to my original question, were you ever going to tell me? -SH**

John looked down disappointed. He had reached the flat. He would now have to come face to face with Sherlock, and while it usually was something he looked forward to, it now make him terrified. He put his phone into his pocket, and opened the door.

"I'm sorry," he called out to Sherlock, who he knew would be in the living room. He climbed up the stairs and entered into the flat where, sure

enough, Sherlock was wrapped up in his blue bathroom sulking. John walked up to him, and sat down next to him, though didn't know what to say. Luckily, Sherlock spoke up first.

"Why did you keep it a secret from me?"

John looked over at Sherlock who kept his face away from him.

"I didn't want you to be upset," John replied quite expressionlessly.

"Upset?!" Sherlock turned to face John now, and John could see how red and blotchy his face looked. _Sherlock had been crying._

"Upset doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling." John kept his head down in his hands, running his hands through his hair nervously.

"I was afraid at how you would respond, because I know that either way, you'd be upset."

"You didn't even talk to me about it, let alone ask." John looked back up at Sherlock.

"I don't_ need_ your permission for what I do in _my_ life." Sherlock's face was getting redder and redder, but not just from anger.

"I don't want you to go," Sherlock said, close to a whisper. John didn't know how to react anymore. He felt that anything he would say would just make matters worse.

"I don't want to have to leave you behind, but I don't have a choice now. I signed up, and now I'm being deployed. I can't back out." Sherlock moved closer to John, resting his head on John's shoulder.

"Please stay safe if you have to leave. Come back in one piece."

"I'm going to try my absolute hardest." John pressed his lips into Sherlock forehead, before pulling him closer to his chest.

"I _will_ come back to you. I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

The months leading up to John's deployment were hard on both John and Sherlock. Sherlock denied everything though he knew the inevitable was going to happen whether he wanted it too or not. John was becoming distant. He was refusing to eat, refusing to sleep, and more importantly, he was avoiding Sherlock.  
Sherlock hated himself for making John feel this way. If he hadn't made himself so vulnerable, maybe John would be spending more time with him. But no, Sherlock screwed up, and ended up pushing him away even more. To make matters ever worse, John was leaving in less than 2 weeks.  
"John, can I talk to you?" Sherlock asked one day, trying to start any sort of conversation. John didn't respond; his face stayed blank as he flicked through the many channels on the telly.  
"John, please. I'm_ begging_ you, talk to me,_ please_," Sherlock pleaded, hoping to attract John's attention. Reluctantly, John looked up from the telly, and moved his attention over to Sherlock.  
"What is it?" he asked, though his voice was toneless. Sherlock looked down nervously before joining John on the couch.  
"Look, you're leaving me in a week, and you haven't been sleeping, eating, or doing anything. You are _leaving_, and you haven't spoken to me in weeks. What's the matter with you?" Sherlock asked bluntly. John looked around the room, annoyed first before his expression changed to disappointment.  
"I haven't been paying you any attention, haven't I?" he said, putting the remote down next to him. He turned so that he could completely face Sherlock.

"It's just, I'm _afraid_, so very, very afraid of leaving. I don't want to leave you, I won't be able to handle it, but I still have to." Tears began to form on his eyes, and he wiped them away quickly.

"I don't know why I just "turned off". I'm sorry." Sherlock sat in silence as John spoke, and when he was finished, curled up next to him.  
"I forgive you," he whispered into John's ear before pressing a kiss into his cheek.

"Just don't "turn off" again. I need you, right now." John returned Sherlock's kiss with a peck on the lips before wrapping his arms around Sherlock and pulling him closer to his chest.  
"I can't wait for this all to be over." John said before turning back to the TV with Sherlock now by his side.

**Author's Note: I'm sorry that this chapter isn't very good, and took a while to publish. Stuff piled up, and I hadn't gotten a chance to write. There's only about 2 more chapters left if I keep going with the ending I have in mind. :D**


	4. Chapter 4

"Sherlock, you hanging on me isn't going to keep me here." John had his bag slung over his other arm; with Sherlock draped over the other. He clung on as if he somehow let go, he would die.  
"I can try," Sherlock muttered back in reply. John sighed, but dropped his bag beside him. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock, and held him in a hug.  
"Love, please look at me," John said, gently moving Sherlock's gaze up towards him. "It's not forever. I'll be back soon. The time will _fly_ so fast, you won't even notice I'm gone." Sherlock sniffled slightly, but nodded.

"Promise you'll be back as soon as possible."  
"Of course I promise."

John pressed his lips to Sherlock's, and just let reality slip away for a little while. He wanted to stay, _god_, how he wanted to stay. However, a voice rang out through the airport.  
_** "Now boarding flight 221 to Afghanistan."**_

John moved back from Sherlock, and wiped the man's eyes, which were now blurred with tears.  
"Don't cry, love. I'll be home soon." John stood back from Sherlock and picked up his bag, and began to head over to boarding. Sherlock stood in the middle of the airport, staring at John for one last time before he left. His stomach was in knots as he watched as John disappeared into the tunnel that led to the airplane. He turned his back, and put his hand to his mouth, stifling a sob. John was gone. He pulled himself together and, with one last look behind him, began to leave the airport. Once he was back outside, he stopped a taxi and began to get back to the flat. However, he fulled out his phone, and send one text.  
_ I love you. -SH_  
_***Ding***_  
** I love you too, Sherlock. I'll see you soon. JW**

**Author's Notes: **I'm sorry it took awhile to publish this chapter, and that it was so short. Unfortunately, this story is coming to an end soon, and I'm still not sure on how I should end it, so please bear with me. :D


End file.
